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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem about living away from home, and how I look back upon my home with an idealised opinion of it.

Submitted: December 17, 2006

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Submitted: December 17, 2006



Fond rememberings,

of velvet fields

and fireflies dancing Giselle

by the small stream.


I miss you, fondly,

my treasure trove of dreams

gathering only a handful of daisies

from the silken embankment of opals.


I think of stone buildings

as if from Cinderella or Rapunzel,

and of bowls of little flowers

shining effavescantly like little stars


that have fallen from the cobalt.

But I forget the chiming of ten o'clock

at midnight on the Sabbath day,

and all too soon my many memories


turn from lilac rose to dusky grey.

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